


What I Can Do Right Now

by hannah_baker



Series: Kind of a Thing [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Brooding, M/M, Slow Burn, canonical wolfiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannah_baker/pseuds/hannah_baker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At some point, Stiles Stilinski became Derek Hale's only friend. When the fuck did that happen?</p>
<p>Chronologically the first part of the Kind of a Thing series, though you can really read them in any order. Their origin story, so to speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Can Do Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I keep writing things out of chronological order. Whatev. It's not complicated, you all are smart, read them in whatever order you want, it'll all still make sense. I believe in you. 
> 
> This is technically part one (chronologically), then Kind of a Thing, then Broken Toys.

Losing his phone was getting fucking old. It was always out of his pocket - he was in constant need of googling something, whether the information was relevant or not. And then he’d get distracted, set it down somewhere, and realize it was missing twenty minutes later.  
  
“Dude, can you just text Derek and see if it’s at his house? I can’t find it anywhere in the Jeep,” Stiles asked Scott outside his house before he let Scott actually leave his car. He was contorted, half under the steering wheel, driver’s seat pushed all the way back, trying to feel for his cell.  
  
“I’m not texting Derek,” Scott said. “I just had to spend an hour with him. I’m not prolonging any interaction with him.”  
  
Stiles sighed. “Fine,” he said, sliding back into his seat and snatching the phone from Scott’s hands. He flicked through his contacts for the D’s, giving up on texting and just deciding to call.  
  
“What, Scott?” Derek snapped after the first ring, and Stiles felt physically taken aback, as though, even over the phone, Derek was right up in his face with his threatening eyes.  
  
“It’s Stiles. I was just wondering if my phone was over at your place still?” He waited a beat, while Derek assumedly searched the living room for it.  
  
“It’s here,” he said and hung up.  
  
“Ray of sunshine,” Scott said, opening the passenger door. “I’m not going back with you. Good luck,” he said, taking his phone back and slipping out of the Jeep. Stiles pouted to himself for a moment before turning his car around and heading back out to the road that led to the woods.  
  
Stiles actually liked the woods. Beacon Hills wasn’t an overwhelmingly gorgeous area - the woods were really all they had that came close to beauty. He’d spent a lot of time with his mom in the woods when he was a kid. It made him smile to think of her and honestly It made the drive back to Derek’s house not as daunting as it could have been.  
  
He pulled up to Derek’s house and got out of his jeep to walk to the door. He only got about an inch away from his car before Derek was in front of him, Stiles’ phone in his hand. He was doing that thing with his eyebrows - brooding - and he was in a tank top even though it was pretty cold outside. Stiles shivered in his layers.  
  
“Stop leaving your shit here,” he said, turning around to go back inside. He paused when he got to the bottom of the porch stairs. “What’s your number, by the way?” he asked, taking out his own phone. Stiles’ face contorted into a question and Derek flicked his eyebrows up in impatience. Stiles rattled his number off.  
  
Derek tapped at his phone for a bit longer, and Stiles felt his phone buzz in his hand. The text was from a new number and just read _Derek_. So that’s how this was going to be. Stiles imagined a litany of incredibly sparse texts ranging from _please come cut my arm off_ to _I have finally killed Scott, come claim his body_.  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes at Derek as he watched him walk back up to his house. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, kid.”  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes again.

  
-

**Pack meeting, 7.**

_So that’s what that was for_ , Stiles thought, as he checked his phone beneath his chemistry table. _I’m on the mailing list now_. It buzzed again, this time from Scott.

**Meeting tonight, 7. Will you pick me up?**

**I know, I got the text.**

**Dude, shouldn’t have given your number to Derek.**

**Life is full of regrets, my friend. I’ll grab you at quarter to.**  
  
-

“You have got to be shitting me,” Stiles said, holding the remnants of his phone in his hands. Erica’s look was at least a little sheepish. She hadn’t meant to step on his phone screen with the heel of her shoe, but that’s life.  
  
“It was a little your fault though too,” she said, generously sharing the blame with him with a smile. “Stop putting your phone on the ground and I’ll stop stepping on it.”  
  
“Fuck, well I can’t afford a new one,” Stiles said, turning the phone over in his hands. It was still in one piece, but the screen was so cracked the entire picture was warped, and the touch wouldn’t even work well enough to answer a phone call. “I just bought my Jeep new breaks.”  
  
Scott and Stiles walked side by side back to the Jeep, which Stiles glared at before patting affectionately in apology, and headed back into town.  
  
“Drop me at Allison’s?” he asked, predictably.  
  
“I’ll drop you two blocks away, so you can more effectively sneak in,” Stiles said, shaking his head. He was keeping a very detailed internal record of how good of a friend he was. Someday he’d need a favor, and Scott would be at the top of his list.  
  
-  
  
School was hell without his phone. It wasn’t even like he got a ton of texts, or had important emails to answer. He just felt a bit off without it in his pocket. He parked the Jeep in his spot in the driveway when he got home and grabbed a snack before heading to his room.  
  
He ditched his backpack on his desk chair when he saw it - his phone, perfectly in one piece. No - a new phone. It still had the protective plastic screen over it. There was a note on it.  
  
 _Erica’s impossible, but she’s my wolf. -D_  
  
He didn’t worry too much about Derek being in his room. Derek thought everything belonged to him and Stiles just willfully ignored it. Plus he wasn’t going to be pissed off about a new phone. Free!  
  
He pried his old SIM card out of his broken phone and stuck it in his new one. He turned it on, only slightly annoyed he’d have to go through screens of set-up again. He brought up his contact list and headed straight to the D’s first. **Thanks!!!** , he sent Derek.  
  
 **Back in action** , he sent Scott.

**??**

**Derek bought me a new phone I guess? Alpha wolf duties I think.**

**He’s not your alpha though.**

**Erica’s alpha.**  
  
He set his phone back down on his desk and booted up his computer. He’d go on Reddit for a while before settling into some homework.  
  
He kept dawdling online, resisting homework for hours before he realized what he was doing. He kept glancing at his phone waiting for a reply. Dude leaves an expensive piece of technology in your room, you expect at least a “you’re welcome” from him, don’t you?  
  
He didn’t get one.  
  
-  
  
“God you need a new place,” Stiles said, shivering into Scott’s side at the pack meeting two weeks later. The house was falling down. He’d snooped into some of his dad’s records, and yeah, it was condemned. He was hanging out with a group of teenaged werewolves in a condemned house on a Thursday night between practice and homework. This was his life now.  
  
He could be in bed now, jerking off.  
  
He could be doing _literally anything_ other than being at that meeting.  
  
Okay, yeah, he’d be jerking off.  
  
“Stuff it about my house, Stilinski,” Derek said, mid sentence. He was talking about maybe recruiting a new wolf, asking everyone who at school would be good. He didn’t even give Stiles an appraising glance. Which Stiles was perfectly fine with. Mostly. He didn’t want to actually be a wolf, but it would it be too much trouble to just ask him? Just for show?  
  
Erica put her feet up on Stiles’ legs, but didn’t look at him. It was some half apology for the phone, half comfort for getting the wrath of her alpha. Erica was a little too intense for Stiles usually, but he appreciated the gesture. Plus, everyone in Derek’s pack was pretty intense. Even Scott had his serious face on, and he hadn’t even pledged his allegiance to Derek or anything.  
  
Stiles pulled his phone out and started his daily rounds of the sites he visited, and soon enough, he’d tuned out the rest of the meeting.  
  
“Allison’s meeting me at our spot in the woods,” Scott said, practically running out the door at the end.  
  
“Sure, sure,” Stiles said under his breath, Scott already gone. He climbed into his Jeep and started off down the road back from Derek’s when his car gave a hiccup and slowed to a stop.  
  
“Awe, c’mon!” Stiles said, jumping out of his car and racing around to the hood. He pulled it open and a pile of steam hissed out. “It’s okay baby, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll rest a minute and try again.” He gave her his best bedroom eyes, and hopped back into the cab to try and stay warm. It was freezing out with the sun down, and Stiles was mentally running through a list of people he could call in one of these kinds of situations.  
  
His dad was at work for the night, Scott always turned his phone off when he was with Allison, Jackson - no, not calling Jackson for any reason. He sighed. He was still reasonably close to Derek’s house.  
  
Stiles cranked the key in his ignition one more time to confirm the time of death before dialing Derek’s number.  
  
“You obviously didn’t leave your phone here,” he said on the first ring.  
  
“Very funny,” Stiles said, already regretting this decision. He took one large swallow of his pride before speaking. “My car broke down on River Road - still pretty close to your house. Any way - and believe me when I say I literally have no one else to call - you could give me a ride home?”  
  
He could hear Derek trying to get out of it.  
  
“Fine,” he said, and the line clicked dead. Stiles would have to take it upon himself to give him a lesson in phone etiquette. It took seven minutes for Derek’s Camaro to pull up alongside his Jeep, and he hopped out of the Jeep and into Derek’s car in one incredibly smooth movement. Well, smooth after he picked himself back up from the ground.  
  
“She was just in the shop, I’m not sure what happened,” Stiles said, trying to make conversation. Derek seemed to have the same driving habits as he did. At least, the car was completely silent. Although, Stiles’ Jeep didn’t have music because the radio shorted out two months after he started driving it. Derek’s car seemed to have stereo enough.  
  
“They can get weird when the seasons change,” Derek said. “Change of temperature, change of humidity.” Stiles nodded along sagely even though he had no actual knowledge to back up his agreement.  
  
“I’m going to have to get her towed,” Stiles moaned, thinking about how much he already owed his dad.  
  
“I could take a look at it for you,” Derek said, and Stiles’ head snapped up.  
  
“Are you being nice to me?” Stiles asked, honest wonder on his face.  
  
“You’re not currently annoying me,” Derek said, and then got what Stiles thought must be the hint of a smile on his face. “And Laura used to drive a Jeep when we were out east; hers was really finicky. She taught me some things.”  
  
“My Jeep was my mom’s,” Stiles blurted out, not really intending to try to make an emotional connection with Derek Hale, but not able to put a filter on his words. Plus, he liked talking about his mom. “She died when I was twelve. I begged my dad not to sell it so I could drive it when I got my license.”  
  
“Laura totaled hers on a patch of ice and a tree in the winter,” Derek said, his eyes distant. “She said it hurt her more to look at the twisted metal of her car than to look at the bruises on her face and the cast on her arm.”  
  
“Having a Jeep is a different kind of car ownership, I guess,” Stiles said.  
  
“Yeah, that and the cast was only for show, and the bruises healed in about ten minutes. She liked having the freedom out in New York when we weren’t really an autonomous pack of our own, had to rely on others. Laura never liked that - not being in charge.” Derek was silent for a bit before he spoke again. “What happened?” He asked as the trees finally broke and the road diverged from the river toward town.  
  
“Hmm?” Stiles asked, a little lost in thoughts of Derek and Laura out in New York. How hard it must have been for them alone.  
  
“To your mom?” Derek’s voice was dark and gentle, and Stiles realized that he wasn’t surprised that Derek was sensitive about this topic. He had after all lost everyone he loved, not just one person.  
  
“She had cancer. Leukemia. I was a donor, but I wasn’t old enough to give marrow.” And there it was. Stiles knew his voice was shaking, despite the heat Derek’s amazing car was pouring at him. He had just told Derek Hale the biggest regret of his life. He didn’t think that being wrapped burrito-style in an electric blanket on the sun would have stopped his teeth from chattering their way through his confession.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Derek said, and instead of hanging awkwardly in the air between them, Derek’s sympathy settled over Stiles like a blanket. Scott was so used to Stiles’ mom being dead that he barely batted an eyelash at it anymore. But Stiles didn’t blame him. Losing a parent wasn’t something that he really wanted anyone else to get. It was just nice when someone could.  
  
“I’m sorry about Laura. And everyone,” Stiles said, feeling a bit lame about his amendment. And everyone. Shuttup Stilinski. Derek nodded his acknowledgement, and suddenly they pulled into Stiles’ driveway.  
  
There was a bubble of safety in the Camaro, a pleasant tension between them that would burst when Stiles left the car.  
  
“Thanks for the ride,” he said, hand on the latch, poised to leave.  
  
“I’ll check on your Jeep on the way back,” Derek said, and Stiles slipped the Jeep key off his keychain and handed it to Derek. He put it in the breast pocket of his leather jacket. Safe.  
  
-  
  
“Scott borrowing your car again?” Stiles’ dad asked the next morning when Stiles came down for breakfast. His dad had worked all night, but had stayed up late enough to make sure Stiles was off to school on time. Then he’d go to bed.  
  
 _Jeep Jeep Jeep_ , Stiles thought trying to remember what his dad was talking about. Oh fuck. His Jeep. He felt a bit of a pang in his heart remembering that he’d left it on the road last night, all alone and lonely.  
  
“Yeah, he wanted to actually take Allison out, but his mom needed her car for something else,” Stiles said, the lie coming easily now after months of practice. His dad was really cool about Scott using Stiles’ car - he’d worked it out with Melissa to get him on their insurance plan too. John knew what being a single parent meant. They helped each other out.  
  
“You need a ride to school?” his dad asked, and Stiles was reluctant, but relented. Ten years of school and he still wasn’t used to the embarrassment of getting dropped off in the cruiser. This morning he judged it to be less embarrassing than riding the bus.  
  
He texted Derek first thing in history. **Did you look at my baby?**

**Jesus christ, Stiles. What?**

**My jeep, Hale. Keep up.**

**I took care of it.**

**Expensive?**

**Don’t worry about it. I’ll come grab you after school.**  
  
Stiles spent the better part of his day obsessing over his Jeep - and how he would pay Derek back now for his Jeep _and_ his phone - that it took him till the bell to realize that the text exchange he’d had with Derek had been civil. Nice almost.  
  
Derek’s black Camaro was waiting for him outside of school when the bell rang. He felt almost normal sliding into the passenger seat, Derek’s greeting nodded briefly to him.  
  
“Thanks for the ride, and you know. The Jeep stuff,” Stiles said, not really able to wrap his mind around speaking the thoughts he was having.  
  
“It was nice to work on a CJ-5 again. I’m not sure if it’s the exact model year that Laura had, but it’s pretty close.”  
  
“Are you big into cars?” Stiles asked, realizing that the conversations he had once had with Derek had been painful and short, and while this one wasn’t the most natural on the face of the earth, it was getting to a normal cadence of speech.  
  
“Not really. I’m okay at them because I understand systems. Mostly I like computers.”  
  
Stiles jaw dropped open. “Computers. 'I live in a burned down house' Hale is a computer guy?”  
  
“Gotta make money somehow when your werewolf issues prevent you from having a normal nine to five,” he said, and left it at that.  
  
Stiles’ jeep ran perfectly (as perfect as it was going to at least), due to Derek’s “tinkering around” that he wouldn’t specify. It didn’t bother Stiles as long as he could drive it again.  
  
-  
  
Stiles went two weeks without hearing from Derek before he got another meeting text.  
  
His phone buzzed with a follow up.  
  
 **You and Scott haven’t been over yet, so here’s my new address.**  
  
Derek had gotten a place in the apartment building at the edge of town. Stiles was confused, but excited. The couch in his house was starting to mildew and Stiles didn’t want mold related issues with his lungs.  
  
The apartment building was small, with probably a dozen units and no lock on the front door. They walked up to Derek’s apartment and pushed the door open to Beacon Hills' Most Normal Living Room.  
  
Isaac was making tea in the kitchen, Erica and Boyd were on the couch eating chips. Derek walked down the hall from his bedroom, pulling a hoodie over his tank top. There were enough seats in the living room for them to all sit down, and a flat screen TV that Stiles thought would be great for video games. It was noticeably missing a console hooked up to it.  
  
“Want some tea?” Isaac asked, and Stiles thought he must be in a parallel dimension.  
  
“If Stiles has caffeine right now, he’ll be up until tuesday,” Scott said, and Stiles nodded. Caffeine was strictly a morning thing for him.  
  
“Everyone sit,” Derek said, voice commanding, and everyone sat. There was a quiet respect that rippled through them that had been missing before. All from the new apartment? “There’s a new pack moving in close to us. They recognize our territory, but it’s important to be aware of them. They also know that I’m a new alpha and you’re all new wolves, so they’re nervous about us. Do not give them reason to be anxious. You need to be on your best behavior.”  
  
Erica rolled her eyes and Derek flashed her a look. She sat up straighter and mumbled an apology.  
  
Derek talked about the pack. It was an alpha with his mate, their two children, and three more betas. Seven wolves total, five experienced adults. Three of them were born, two bitten. They were not a pack to mess with.  
  
“I’ve been having meetings with them so they know my scent. They’re good people, but they’re much stronger than we are. We need them to be our allies, not our enemies. They’ve been warned about the Argents. Any questions?”  
  
“Do we get to meet them?” Erica asked, waggling her eyebrows.  
  
“You don’t,” Derek said. “Maybe Isaac.”  
  
“Why Isaac?” asked Boyd, clearly upset. Erica scoffed at him.  
  
“Because Isaac has shown maturity and control in the past. That’s what I want to show this pack.” There was no room for argument.  
  
The meeting dissolved from there into flipping channels on the TV. Stiles migrated toward the kitchen to rustle for snacks when Derek appeared at his side.  
  
“Nice place,” Stiles said, pulling some humus out of the fridge. “You have food now.”  
  
“Yeah, someone told me my house wasn’t suitable to live in,” Derek said, a sarcastic tone permeating it.  
  
“Who, the Department of Health?”  
  
“More like the department of _why is there a human in my pack_?”  
  
“‘Cause I’m helpful and you keep sending me pack meeting invites,” Stiles said. He stuck a baby carrot in humus and popped it in his mouth. Derek cuffed him lightly on the shoulder (though lightly for a wolf meant Stiles still would bruise) and walked out of the kitchen.  
  
A human in my pack. It echoed in Stiles’ ears. He was in Derek’s pack.  
  
-  
  
“Dude,” Stiles said when Derek answered his phone. “I need a serious favor.”

He heard Derek sigh over the phone - one of those long, drawn out sighs that was supposed to make him feel like he was imposing. “What?”  
  
“My dad is kicking me out for the night. He’s gone all night, and we’re on curfew and he’s worried about me and whatever.”  
  
“And what is your favor?” Derek asked, already aware of what is was going to be.  
  
“Well Scott is going to hang out with Alison tonight - I know, big surprise - and I can’t tell my dad that because he’d tell Scott’s mom and Scott would never talk to me again.”  
  
“And because you can’t stay with Scott, you want to stay at my place.” It wasn’t even a question.  
  
“Let me tell you why this is an awesome idea. One: you have a place with a roof - congratulations again by the way. Two: your place has an awesome couch I could crash on. Three: I am incredibly entertaining and I make literally the best nachos you’ve ever had. Four: my dad gave me pizza money,” Stiles’ enthusiasm was so great that Derek could feel it over the phone. “I’ve got to be out by six when he leaves for work. I don’t have a choice and I have nowhere else to go.”  
  
“Okay,” Derek said, his voice thick with irritation. Stiles was flabbergasted.  
  
“Seriously?” He punched the air with his fist, glad he wasn’t going to have to go park his Jeep somewhere hidden and sleep in it.  
  
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you after six,” Derek said, and followed it with a click.  
  
-  
  
Stiles showed up at Derek’s with a huge duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a grocery bag in his arms.  
  
“This is only one night, right?” Derek asked, confused at all of Stiles’ things he’d brought.  
  
“The duffel only has one change of clothes, don’t worry. It’s mostly my Xbox.”  
  
“You brought your Xbox?” Derek asked, his voice interested.  
  
“Yeah, I noticed your beautiful, glorious flat screen TV didn’t have a console, and because this is a sleep-over-“  
  
“Never refer to it that way again,” Derek interrupted.  
  
“And because this is a huge favor that you’re doing for me, I decided to bring mine.”  
  
“What games?” Derek asked, voice skeptical.  
  
“I brought about ten, but I’m hoping you’ll just bare your throat to me in Call of Duty,” Stiles said, hoping that threatening the submission of an alpha was acceptable as long as it was in a video game context.  
  
“I bare my throat to no man,” Derek said, taking his phone out of his pocket and dialing a number. “You said you had pizza money?”  
  
-  
  
Three hours later Stiles was trying to drown his defeat in pizza and nachos. He’d won the first couple rounds, but it was clear that Derek was just warming up.  
  
“How in the actual fuck did you get so good at this game?” Stiles asked, while getting his ass completely handed to him.  
  
“I played a lot out in New York. A couple of the guys in the pack Laura and I stayed with were about my age. And they were way better at it than you are.”  
  
“Hey - I’m better than Scott!” he said, and waited a beat. “Somehow I always forget you were out in New York,” he said, desperately mashing the buttons on his controller, while Derek manipulated the buttons on his calmly.  
  
“I don’t usually bring it up, so that’s understandable.”  
  
“Why don’t you?” Stiles asked, his attention shifting from the game to Derek.  
  
“Because my pack does not need to see my pain,” Derek said. “It’s also part of the reason I moved here, out of my house. Blank slate. No dead Hales in my basement.” The only time Stiles had ever heard Derek talk about his family was when his wolves weren’t around.  
  
“You can’t talk to them about it,” Stiles said, finally just putting his controller down. He wasn’t going to win this round anyway.  
  
“I have to be strong for them. They all have problems. It’s not their job to shoulder mine as well.” Derek tossed his controller on the coffee table and ate a nacho.  
  
“But it’s your job to take care of them,” Stiles said.  
  
“Yes. I am their Alpha. They’re my responsibility.”  
  
Stiles let out a small laugh. “Sometimes that’s how I feel about Scott. I can’t talk to him about my mom or anything. I’m always listening to his problems, but he doesn’t know anything about mine. I didn’t even tell him when my dad lost his job.”  
  
“And he’s your best friend?” Derek asked, a little confused. “I grew up with wolves. Pack was everything. We knew everyone’s business. Sometimes human relationships don’t make any sense to me.”  
  
“You have all your wolfy instincts to make excuses for your touchy-feely emotions and stuff. If I need a hug I can’t just ask Scott for one cause that’s weird. Not macho or whatever. He’s just laughed it off in the past.” Stiles shook his head.  
  
Derek stood up from his chair and held a hand out to Stiles to pull him up from the couch. He pulled Stiles into a fairly aggressive hug, tight and protective, his stubble scraping against Stiles’ forehead. It took a second, but Stiles hugged Derek back. This might be Stiles’ hug, but it was pretty clear that Derek needed it too.  
  
Derek held onto him for a few beats longer than he’d expected, clapped him on the back, and sat back down. “Touchy-feely wolf stuff,” Derek said, as means for explanation, and picked up his controller once more. “Now, bare your neck to me in Call of Duty or I’m going to bed.”  
  
Stiles smiled at him, and grabbed his own controller.  
  
-  
  
 **What’s your Xbox live account name?**  
  
Stiles smiled at the message. It had been four days since he’d spent the night at Derek’s. It had been a pretty normal sleep over. Some video games, some junk food. A bit of emotional oversharing (just a little bit!). Derek’s couch was actually pretty comfortable to sleep on, and they were getting to a point of normal conversation. Derek was actually pretty cool when he wasn’t being super intense. Stiles called it a success.  
  
 **You got an Xbox!?**

**Missed playing CoD. Now I can play with Jeremy and Matthew in NY too.**

**Stilinski24 is my gamertag. Yours?**

**Derekhale**

**Soooooo creative**

**Stuff it**  
  
Stiles changed into his PJ’s and flopped into bed, shuffling through menus on screen to accept Derek’s friend request.  
  
He put his headset on and the next two hours were spent getting beaten and taunted by Derek, and handing back trash talk like he had some sort of a right.  
  
When Stiles finally announced he had to go to bed or he’d fall asleep with his controller in his hand, Derek almost sounded disappointed. Then he invited Stiles over after school the next day. You know, if Stiles wanted to.  
  
Stiles had always thought that Derek Hale needed a friend. And there he was - apparently Derek’s friend.  
  
-  
  
“I brought Captain America, Iron Man, and The Avengers,” Stiles said, walking into Derek’s apartment with the ease of someone who spent quite a bit of time there. Which he did.

Over the past two weeks, hanging out with Derek had become almost a daily thing, and they talked on the phone or played video games online on the days they couldn’t see each other. Stiles wasn’t blind to the fact that Derek was becoming a constant in his life. It was nice actually. Scott had left a hole in his life when he’d transferred all of his time and energy to Allison.  
  
“Such a wide and varied selection,” Derek said. He handed Stiles a Coke from the fridge and grabbed one for himself.  
  
“I’m in a Marvel mood,” Stiles explained as he put Iron Man into the Xbox. “Robert Downy Jr is so sassy.”  
  
“You mean Iron Man,” Derek said, sitting down on the couch.  
  
“Yeah, same thing,” Stiles said, grabbing the remote and sitting next to Derek. He’d seen this movie at least ten times, but Derek had only seen the second one, which Stiles thought was a crime.  
  
“God, what are you so anxious about?” Derek asked, about a third into the movie. “You’re sending off major toxic vibes over here.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Stiles asked, his heart beating a little faster - caught. Long gone were the days when Stiles got to have private emotions.    
  
“You’re wound up super tight. I can basically feel the tension in your shoulders without even having to touch you. What’s wrong?”  
  
Stiles sighed. “My dad’s been stressed out lately, and it’s just. Money stuff. Being inside my house right now is being in a bundle of tension.”  
  
Derek didn’t say anything - he just scooted a little closer to him and put his arm around his shoulders. Stiles was slowly getting used to this - Derek’s physical comfort. He saw how Derek was with his wolves - a bit handsy. Apparently it was a wolf thing. Derek didn’t always know what to say, but Stiles didn’t mind. Maybe it was a wolf way to offer comfort, but Stiles didn’t have to be a wolf to receive it.  
  
By the time the movie ended Stiles was undoubtedly cuddled into Derek’s side, Derek’s cheek resting on the top of his head. It was nice. Derek was warm and his body was heavy. Stiles felt safe, felt a complete lack of the anxiety he’d shown up with. Couch cuddling was not even close to something that he and Scott would do, but it was okay with Derek for some reason. There wasn’t even any awkward after cuddling weirdness. Derek just gave Stiles’ shoulder a bit of a squeeze, and sent him home.  
  
Stiles felt a bit high on the drive back.  
  
-  
  
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Scott lately,” his dad said the next night at dinner. Stiles had picked up salad bar from the grocery store, and his dad was carefully picking away at it, avoiding all of the tomatoes like they were on fire.  
  
“Yeah, he and Allison haven’t been so glued to each other lately. It’s been nice,” Stiles said, easily slipping back into his lie. He wasn’t even anxious about it like he usually was. It made him think of Derek, and Derek made him feel more relaxed.  
  
“Your grades still doing okay?” his dad asked him, and Stiles made a face.  
  
“My grades are perfect,” he said, lamenting the time he had to spend to keep them up. He didn’t understand how Scott was failing classes. Stiles had werewolf business keeping him busy and ADHD, which made studying much more difficult for him. And he still figured it out.  
  
“I’m proud of you, kid. You’re doing a good job.” Stiles could hear the but rising in his phrase. “But you really should spend less time at night playing video games. They’re keeping you up all night. You look tired every morning.”  
  
“Dad, that’s when my friends are on to play,” Stiles told him. He’d explained World of Warcraft to his dad before, so he was hoping he would just assume that’s what he meant. Raids - not Derek Hale’s stiff CoD competition.  
  
“You’ve been drinking coffee,” his dad said, concerned. Stiles didn’t generally need coffee to function. In fact, the opposite of coffee would occasionally be welcomed.  
  
“Midterms are coming up,” Stiles said, shrugging. He finished his salad and threw the take out box in the garbage. It was getting closer to nine - he and Derek’s unofficial phone call or video game time.  
  
-  
  
“It’s been forever - want to play video games tonight? Halo?” Scott asked a week later at lunch.  
  
“What does Allison have going on tonight?” Stiles said raising his eyebrow.  
  
“Allison doesn’t have to be busy for me to want to hang out with you,” Scott said innocently. Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. “Fine. It’s her dad’s birthday, they’re going out to dinner together.”  
  
“Well, sorry bro, I can’t hang out tonight,” Stiles said, and Scott pulled a face.  
  
“What do you have going on?” he asked incredulously.  
  
“What, I can’t have other friends now?” Stiles said, keeping his tone light because he didn’t want to actually fight with Scott, but he still felt a bit offended by Scott’s surprise.  
  
“That’s not how I meant it,” Scott said, and Stiles decided to just shrug it off and move past it.  
  
“I’m going to hang out with Derek,” Stiles said, and Scott’s face dropped.  
  
“Again? Didn’t you just hang out with him like, two weeks ago?” Scott said.  
  
“Scott, I hung out with him like, two days ago. And lay off, dude needs some friends,” Stiles said. _And I need some friends too_ , he thought.  
  
“He has his pack!” Scott said, almost at a whine. “He doesn’t need to take my best friend too.”  
  
“His pack isn’t just a bunch of people he bit to be friends with,” Stiles said, not wanting to give up too much about Derek’s relationship with his pack. “He’s more like an older brother to them than a friend. And there’s stuff you just don’t tell you kid sister, you know?”  
  
“Whatever,” Scott said, picking at the piece of overcooked, congealed pizza on his tray.  
  
“This weekend though,” Stiles said, “Halo all day Saturday? You can still go out with Allison at night.”  
  
“Sure,” Scott said, placated and smiling. “Sounds great.”  
  
-  
  
Stiles almost felt stupid for calling him as he watched the clock tick slowly past twelve thirty. Derek had missed their gaming time. He had his phone in his hand, Derek’s number primed for dialing. He sighed and hit the call button.  
  
“Hey,” Derek said, that same detached tone he used whenever they weren’t physically in each others presence.  
  
“Hey,” Stiles said, trying to figure out why he'd called Derek in the first place. “Didn’t see you today,” he said, trying to sound as casual as possible. “Call of Duty maybe? Are you home?”  
  
“I’m on my way home. We could play online... or I could stop by if you wanted,” Derek said, his voice doing nothing to aid the meaning of the words he was saying. It was dark out, way past when he should have gone to sleep, and Stiles was ready to sulk himself to bed. Going one day without seeing Derek shouldn’t make him feel this way - but when you have near-constant contact with someone, withdrawal happens. “Is your dad home?” Derek asked, and Stiles tried to calm down his heart beat.  
  
“No, this week is his week on nights,” Stiles said. His dad alternated, one week on days, one on nights. The nights weeks used to just make him feel lonely. Now they were becoming his favorite. It was mutually decided, though never discussed, that Stiles’ father should not know about their friendship. Plus the sneaking around was not only a little fun, but also coming second nature now.  
  
“I’ll be over in ten,” Derek said, and actually waited for Stiles to respond before hanging up. He was learning, slowly.  
  
Stiles got off his bed and tried to decide what to do. He was in his pajamas - should he change out of them back into clothes? It was just a t-shirt and some old flannel pants. It wasn’t anything obscene. He settled on going to brush his teeth, and heard the doorbell ring when he was finished. Derek had used the window a couple times for some clandestine Call of Duty matches when an internet connection wasn’t going to cut it, but he used the door if the Sheriff wasn’t home.  
  
Stiles bounded down the stairs and pulled the door open to Derek, looking exhausted on his doorstep.  
  
“Hey,” he said, pulling Stiles into a hug before doing anything else. He tucked his face into Stiles' neck and inhaled. Derek was always just smelling him. Stiles had become a little self-conscious about his odor, but Derek would continue to press his face close. He supposed he was getting used to it. He let Stiles go with what Stiles thought was reluctance. Maybe he was just reading into things too much though - these were just wolfy traits, right? Stiles trailed after him as he led them up the stairs.  
  
Derek sat on the desk chair in Stiles’ room, looking up at him. Stiles chose a spot on the edge of his bed closest to his desk.  
  
“I’m obviously in my pajamas - didn’t think it would be worth the effort to change back into my clothes,” he wasn’t sure why he cared what Derek thought of his clothing, but something in him did.  
  
“You were going to bed,” Derek said, an observation more than a question. “I should go then, right? So you can go to bed.”  
  
“No it’s fine,” Stiles said.  
  
“But you have school in the morning, and I don’t technically have to wake up for anything.”  
  
“I also have coffee. Lots of coffee. I will buy myself a large coffee on the way to school tomorrow.”  
  
“Okay,” Derek said, looking at him straight in the eye. The contact was tangible, and Stiles felt frozen. “I’ll stay.”  
  
Stiles let out a nearly on-cue yawn.  
  
“Oh for the love of God,” Derek said, standing up to take his coat off, ditching it on the chair. “You’re obviously exhausted.” Derek walked over to Stiles’ bed, pulled the covers back enough for Stiles to get in, and motioned sharply that this was what was expected of him.  
  
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Stiles said, and Derek laughed.  
  
“That was the most teenage thing I’ve ever heard you say. In. Now.” He held the blanket back, and left the rest of his arguing up to his eyebrows.  
  
“What’s in it for me?” Stiles asked, raising his own eyebrows. Derek rolled his eyes. He unbuckled his jeans and shook them off, sliding under the covers. “Well that’s very literal,” Stiles said, sulking a bit before getting up off the end of the bed.  
  
He wasn’t exactly sure how to approach this - what this meant. He and Derek had cuddled before. Since the first time he and Derek had cuddled during a movie, cuddling had become standard movie watching practice. But it had never been like this. In his bed. So intentional and straightforward - and horizontal. He hesitated.  
  
“Stiles,” Derek said, his voice finally saying what his words couldn’t. It was gentle and soft, and there was something in it that sounded a bit like pleading.  
  
Stiles slid under the blanket that Derek was still holding up for him, and pressed back against Derek. Derek’s arms came around him, strong and large and possessive, and he could feel the heat of Derek’s chest on his back. This was why he called Derek after midnight on a night his dad was at work. Because he’d spent the day brooding and alone. Because Scott had blown him off again to be with Allison. Because Derek had a meeting that night a few towns away.  
  
He’d called Derek for reassurance that he was still human - that he was still solid. He could feel the weight of his own body encircled in Derek’s arms. But he could still lose himself in the scent of Derek, the unique way he smelled becoming what comfort smelled like.  
  
They were pressed flush, and Derek cautiously pushed his face into the back of Stiles’ neck, nosing carefully at the fluff of his hairline. Stiles let out a laugh.  
  
“Sheesh, trying to tickle a guy to death?” Stiles asked, the first genuine smile of the day spreading across his face. He turned over his shoulder to see Derek, his own smile small and fond.  
  
“Shhh,” Derek said, giving Stiles a squeeze. He had one hand pressed firm to Stiles’ chest, right on his breastbone, and even though Stiles thought he would have to be an idiot to sleep through this, there was something so comforting about being held like this. So comforting Stiles felt his eyelids droop.  
  
Stiles had resigned to the fact that whatever he and Derek were doing wasn’t platonic. It was a very far distance away from platonic. He tried to imagine Scott’s arms around him in the way Derek’s were, and nearly vomited. No. This wasn’t platonic. But it wasn’t quite romantic. After all, there had been no kissing, and usually when someone comes to your house late at night to hold you so you can sleep, there’s at least some kissing.  
  
He liked that idea - kissing Derek. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about it, of course, and Derek continued to make his intentions clear - _I care about you, I need you like you need me, I will perform very boyfriendly tasks for you_. But Stiles began to think that he would have to make the first move. Derek didn’t seem like he was going to make any more forward movement.  
  
In the morning, he woke up alone. He could still imagine what Derek’s weight felt like behind him, and he didn’t want to get out of bed and lose that feeling. He slept too long to shower, but put on pretty clean clothes in a vague attempt at hygiene before noticing that there was something sticking out of the front pocket of his backpack - a package of Reese’s cups.  
  
-  
  
Stiles spent all day bucking up the courage to do what he was going to do - talk to Derek. He’d gotten an _I’m sorry you woke up alone but your dad came home_ text from him during Spanish, and had invited Stiles over after practice.  
  
The drive to Derek’s apartment had become one of those auto pilot routes for Stiles, where he was pretty sure that he could drive it asleep. He parked his Jeep in lot next to Derek’s Camaro, and headed up to the top floor of the small apartment building. There were eleven units, and Derek was in unit one. Suiting for the Alpha.  
  
Stiles knocked on the door but didn’t get an answer. He let himself in. Derek thought there was no point in locking your door in Beacon Hills. Especially if you’re a wolf. He heard Derek’s shower running, so he puttzed around the kitchen a bit. It was getting cold, so Stiles decided to boil some water for hot cocoa. He’d made Derek buy a box of it the week before just for him.  
  
The shower turned off, and Stiles grabbed two mugs from the cupboard, dumping two packages of cocoa into his mug, one into Derek’s. He could hear feet padding behind him while he poured the hot water into the mugs, and flicked his eyes to the side to see him. He was just in sweats and a long sleeve shirt, hair messy and still wet from the shower. He had a smudge of toothpaste on the corner of his mouth. Stiles liked seeing him like this. Normal. He looked back to the mugs to stir each drink, he felt Derek’s arms wrap around his chest from behind.  
  
“Hey,” he said into Stiles’ neck, skin still a bit damp from the shower.    
  
Stiles smiled. Again, he was in a very not platonic situation, Derek pressed to him so tight it was nearly obscene, the stubble on his cheek rubbing against Stiles’ jaw. Stiles began his mental preparations, and Derek backed off immediately.  
  
“What did I do wrong?” Derek asked, confusion on his face.  
  
“What do you mean?” Stiles asked. He hadn’t moved a bit, but he’d gotten a bit nervous. He hated that Derek could smell fucking everything on him.  
  
“You’re anxious and not in the normal way. You got anxious when I got here.” Every once in awhile Stiles would look at Derek and his mind would slip back into thinking of him as just a werewolf, and not the human he was. He’d forget about Derek’s soul, and just how deeply damaged he was. He’d forget about his trust issues and insecurity. Moments like this brought it all back. Moments like this made him remember just how much like himself Derek was.  
  
“No,” Stiles said, turning around and leaning back against the counter. “I’m fine,” he said, and Derek moved back toward him, put his hands on Stiles’ hips. “Is this…?” Stiles started and trailed off.  
  
“Is this?” Derek asked back, standing barely far away enough from Stiles to not be in complete contact.  
  
“What are we doing?” Stiles asked finally, and Derek dropped his hands.  
  
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, giving Stiles a bit of space.  
  
“No, no you’re not making me uncomfortable, but dude,” Stiles sighed and forced himself to say the words that very well could put an end to the happiness he’d been feeling around Derek recently. “You gotta stop leading me on,” he said finally.  
  
Derek looked confused. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Listen, I know wolves are more touchy-feely than humans, and the scenting and cuddling, that’s all wolf stuff. But that’s not normal platonic friendship stuff to humans, and I just need you to stop if we’re just going to be friends.”  
  
“Then you only want to be friends,” Derek said, his expression falling so quickly back to the sadness he was used to seeing a month ago.  
  
Stiles shook his head. “No, I don’t want to be just friends, and that’s the problem.”  
  
“Stiles,” Derek said, moving closer to him. He replaced his hands on Stiles’ hips, and dropped his head to press his forehead to Stiles’. “I slept in your bed last night. That’s not platonic for wolves either.”    
  
He pulled Stiles’ hips close to his own, Stiles’ hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. His eyes asked permission, getting a bit of a nod from Stiles, before he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Stiles’. It was tentative, chaste and short, but sweet enough for Stiles to chase when Derek pulled away. Just another peck.  
  
Derek’s body felt the same against his. Warm, strong, big. Stiles liked his form, liked the way the muscles of his chest felt under his cheek when they cuddled on the couch, liked the way his arms locked around him like a vice. Same Derek, same Stiles. Stiles had thought that kissing Derek would change everything, but it didn’t - Derek was still his constant.  
  
“Is this okay?” Derek asked, hands coming up to cup Stiles’ cheeks. Derek’s hands were pleasantly rough on his skin, and his eyes drifted closed for a second. Derek nuzzled at his neck, scenting him.  
  
“I-uh-yeah-good,” Stiles said, and Derek gave his neck a bit of a nip.  
  
“Did you shower today?” Derek asked him out of nowhere and Stiles froze up.  
  
“Dude, I woke up late, it’s not my fault everyone I hang out with has super smelling, alright?” He was a bit taken aback. First Derek kissed him, then he told him he smelled. Great.  
  
“No, you smell amazing,” Derek said, and pulled Stiles close to him. “You fucking smell like me all over, it’s incredible.”  
  
“I smell like you?”  
  
“Mmmhmm,” Derek said, rubbing his cheek against Stiles’ temple. “You smell like you slept in my bed. I like it.”  
  
“Wolf things,” Stiles said, trying not to jump out of his skin in excitement.  
  
“Wolf things,” Derek confirmed, pulling away from him a bit. “You made us cocoa,” he said, in the tone of voice Stiles only heard when they were alone together. Just a heap of fondness that made Stiles feel wanted.  
  
“It’s freezing out,” Stiles said, picking up both mugs and pressing Derek’s into his hands.  
  
“We can watch Batman tonight. Or whatever you want to watch,” Derek said, and once again they were on the couch watching a movie. And it was mostly like it was before, just watching TV and cuddling a little, but every once in awhile Derek would press his lips to Stiles’ temple, or twist their fingers together.  
  
And they bubbled with the arrival of the thing they both wanted most in the world, testing their toes in the water and hoping they didn’t fuck it  up.  
  
-  
  
The following Saturday afternoon found Stiles on his back on Derek’s couch, alpha werewolf pressing him into the cushions. Derek’s arms were bracketed on the sides of Stiles’ face as he pressed soft kiss after soft kiss into Stiles’ lips.  
  
“This is way better than Call of Duty,” Stiles said, when Derek’s lips slid down to his throat. Their kisses had been chaste and slow since the first night, and Stiles was slowly getting frustrated. He’d practically had to pull Derek on top of him, but it had been a good choice.  
  
If cuddling Derek was great, kissing him was incredible. Derek had singular focus, with the ability to ignore his cell phone multiple times, the pizza guy and now the pizza which was going cold on the coffee table. The rest of his life made him feel pretty pushed to the sidelines - second string friend, troublemaker kid. But Derek made him feel like he mattered.  
  
Stiles panted underneath Derek, feeling the give of the couch cushions as they pressed back against him. They were clothed, but Derek had a hand up under Stiles’ shirt, just exploring his skin lazily. Stiles arched into Derek, making an attempt at some friction, but Derek held his hips down, kept things cool. Stiles still struggled for more contact, but Derek wouldn’t relent, toeing the fine line between chaste and hot  & heavy.  
  
In the moment Stiles found it extremely annoying. But he wasn’t about to pretend that their living room make out session didn’t eventually end in the best orgasm he’d had in months. Even if it was a solo endeavor.  
  
-  
  
The Sheriff was pulling a double shift, which naturally meant that Derek was sleeping over. Usually Stiles would just go to Scott’s (or lately, just tell his dad he was going to Scott’s), but fuck it. He told his dad he’d be fine staying home - he was almost seventeen after all- and John left, leaving pizza money and the promise of a midnight check-in in his wake.  
  
Derek showed up ten minutes after the cruiser drove off, his Camaro parked in his usual secret spot (that was really just the street over). Pizza and a movie turned into shamelessly making out on the couch for a few hours. Stiles felt nearly dizzy when they finally stumbled back to the kitchen to eat ice cream and try not to crack up when he made his midnight phone call from the landline to his dad. _Yes obviously I am home safe and not outside running wild into the moonlight_ or whatever his dad thought he was going to do.  
  
He didn’t even feel all that shy pulling Derek by the hand up to his room.  
  
Derek hadn’t been there since the first night he slept over, the night of questionably platonic snuggles. Derek had never been body shy, and stripped to his boxers almost immediately, picking up a still fully clothed Stiles under his ass, letting Stiles’ legs come around his hips and his arms around his neck.  
  
“I think I’ve spent just about the entire night kissing you,” Derek said, in that voice that was low and soft and just for Stiles.  
  
“Is that a complaint?” Stiles said, holding tight to Derek’s neck.  
  
“Never,” Derek said, set Stiles down on his bed, back pressed against a tangle of sheets. Derek stripped him delicately out of his clothes, pulling his jeans over his feet and helping him out of what seemed like six shirts before climbing on top of him. He nuzzled into Stiles’ neck slowly and rubbed his stubble over his collar, skin turning red with irritation and embarrassment.  
  
“Are we going to…?” Stiles asked, his voice full of anticipation and fear. They hadn’t talked about it at all, outside of Derek’s insistent demands to go slow. Whatever that meant.  
  
“Not tonight,” Derek said gently running a hand soothingly down Stiles’ side, over the soft cotton still covering his butt. He gave it a bit of a squeeze before flipping them onto their sides so Stiles could curl into his chest.  
  
“Derek, this is dumb, I’m seventeen in two weeks, we don’t have to wait around for me to stop being jailbait,” Stiles said, trying to coax Derek into below-the-belt activities.  
  
“Stiles, if I was worried about going to jail, I would be so far away from you and your sheriff father. It’s not about that,” Derek said.  
  
“Then what’s it about? Do you not want to?” Stiles couldn’t bring himself to actually saying his whole question out loud. Do you not want to touch me? Do you not want to have sex with me?  
  
“I don’t think you realize how big of a deal it is, alright?” Derek said, and Stiles was a little angry they were snuggled up when he said it - like Derek couldn’t even say it to his face. That he thought he was some kind of a baby or something.  
  
“I’m not a little kid,” Stiles said, pushing Derek’s chest just hard enough for them to separate a bit. He wanted eye contact.  
  
“I’m not saying that you are,” Derek said. “But I lost my virginity way too young and I regretted it. I don’t want to do that to you.”   
  
“Just because you made a decision you’re not proud of doesn’t mean that you get to make mine for me,” Stiles argued back.  
  
“And if this was a decision that just affected you, I’d agree. But this is my thing too.” Derek’s jaw was set in his annoying Alpha Werewolf way, which meant good freaking luck trying to argue.  
  
Stiles tried to ignore the fact that Derek actually had a point.  
  
“Maybe I want to... meet your dad or something before this starts getting...serious,” Derek said, and Stiles was glad for the eye contact. Derek was all honesty and vulnerability. Shit was getting real in a way Stiles wasn’t expecting. It freaked him out.  
  
“You honestly want to meet the Sheriff properly in order to feel good about fucking his son? Thanks but no thanks, bro, I’m not really into the idea of having sex with your dead body,” Stiles said, and Derek laughed.  
  
“That’s not what it’s about and you know it,” Derek said. Stiles tried to push things away with humor. Sometimes Derek had to pull him back around to the point of it all.  
  
“I don’t know if this...” Stiles started, motioning between them. Stiles could talk about sex. Sex was fine. Relationships were a little different. “I don’t know if I can...”  
  
“No,” Derek said, pulling Stiles back to him, “I get it. Nothing official, just...us.” His voice was a little stiffer than usual. But Stiles didn’t know if he could handle being someone’s boyfriend.  
  
“We’re like, a thing,” Stiles said. “That’s what I can do right now.”  
  
“A thing,” Derek said. Well, it was more than he had with anyone else.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://hannahisawolf.tumblr.com) rebloggin' pictures of cute boys, oh yeah.


End file.
